


Breaking the Rick Wall

by anachorist



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Citadel of Ricks, F/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating Will Change to Explicit, Slow Build, Slow Burn, long fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2017-09-29
Packaged: 2019-01-05 04:24:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12182832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anachorist/pseuds/anachorist
Summary: Rick N-083 of the Citadel of Ricks causes a portal to rip across dimensions which brings forth multiple versions of a woman to the Citadel, unwillingly.(Slow building fic)





	1. Go off with a Hitch

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Rick and Morty.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick of Dimension N-083 works for Portal Gun Pro on the Citadel, specifically in researching optimizations of the portal fluid all Ricks used. Assigned a new research project, he was meant to find a way to make the portal fluid more efficient. Instead he may have complicated matters on the Citadel all together.

The day began as any other for Rick N-083. The climate controlled Citadel was a steady 23.5°C. The streets had already been swept by the Janitor Ricks on 4th shift, leaving the path to The Interdimensional Rick’s of Pancakes a pristine pathway. The simulated sun street lamps kept every working Rick awake and functioning as they headed to work, depending on their shift. For Rick N-083 this was especially needed as he picked up a coffee and plate of to go breakfast.

Rick N-083 had just spent the last three shifts working on a modified portal fluid that would stay charged for twenty percent longer and was ten times more efficient than the standard. It would revolutionize portal guns for all Ricks everywhere. It was a little more expensive but the benefits outweighed the cost.

It was still experimental of course. He had a multitude tests to run to ensure safety, though most Ricks didn’t exactly care too much about safety, the Ricks from his dimension did.

Releasing a slow breath he walked across to Portal Gun Pro Headquarters and signed in. He was scanned to make sure he had nothing compromising as he was walking in. His bag checked before he was given his ID bag. He clipped his badge with his dimension designation on his labcoat lapel and set his bag into his locker. He proceeded through multiple security checks again, as was the usual.

Working with portal fluid and portal gun technology inside of the Citadel was lucrative required a high level. So his work had several layers of security checks to ensure there was no leaking. Both of information and of the fluid kind. Rick N-083 was one of a few Ricks who were granted the security clearance to work on it.

“Rick!” Called a Rick with the standard light blue shirt, white labcoat, and brown slacks. His ID Badge displaying his dimension designation as N-062. They were practically brothers. Their own dimensions only so many branches off from the central finite curve, their experiences nearly identical. Several Ricks turned to stare at him and he ignored them, his gaze falling on N-083

“Rims?” Rick N-083 jostled N-062, or Rims, as he caught up. Rims slid his arm over N-083 and slumped to whisper in his ear.

“L-620 w-wants to you in his office.”

“Ah shit. Did-did he say what he needed?” N-083 held in a burp.

“Something about the research y-you took home.”

“Fuck.” Rick N-083 patted his labcoat. He’d left the papers in his locker. He’d been planning on working on them during his lunch hour. That was going to be a bust if he had to present them now to L-620.

“Come on, he’s-auuugh- waiting.”

“Y-you go on ahead.” Rick N-083 turned around. “I left something in my locker.”

“Don’t kee-aaugh-keep him waiting. You know how impatient he gets.” Rims called as Rick N-083 ran.

He ran for the lockers, only slowing when Security yelled “No Running.” With a forced smile, he slowed and then sped back up when the guard looked away. His middle finger flipped up as he skidded around a corner and burst into the worker’s locker room. He paused however when a flash of long hair caught his attention and he stiffened upon seeing Ricci of Dimension V-069. A happy “coincidence” as the Council of Ricks liked to say when referring to the only dimension the Citadel had encountered where Rick was born a woman.

“Madam Ricci.” He muttered, lowering his gaze as she turned to give him a sharp critical look before smiling.

“Hitch?” The nickname fell off her lips easily.

It was an affectionate moniker that got thrown around the break room for him and his dimensional brothers. It was not an appreciated one. If only because they were the Hitch, or the cause that in their absence things succeeded.

“Was that your research proposal on the effective use of detecting particle patterns affected by R-waves even beyond M-waves I saw on my desk?” Ricci quirked her brow up. Her dyed hair styled so it always hung over one side. Even when she tried to tuck it back it always fell forward.

Rick N-083 gulped but nodded at her question.

“Impressive theories you’ve worked up.” She exited

“Th-thank you, ma’am.” He managed to correct his stammer as the door closed. Once alone, he took a steadying breath. Ricci was his boss’s boss’s boss. For his research proposal to get that far up the chain after several departmental reviews, he smiled. Maybe being a Hitch wasn’t so bad?

With a spin on his heel he propped open his locker and pulled out the research papers and strutted out toward L-620’s office. N-083 knocked on the open doorway. Etiquette was prime concern for L-620.

“Enter.” L-620, or more affectionately known as Dick amongst the floor researchers.

“Sir?” N-083 opened the door, starting when he saw two Citadel Guard Ricks at the door. One of which held a nondescript gray case at his side. Sitting in L-620’s chair was not who N-083 recognized as Dick, but rather was Quantum Rick, overseer of the Citadel Militia. L-620 sat across from him, in his usual white shirt and tie with brown slacks and his hair shorn short and tamed.

“Hitch! Quantum Rick, Gentle Ricks, this is Rick of N-083. He’s the one I was telling you about.” L-620 smiled wide and rose with a gesture at N-083. “Come-come in, Hitch.”

“Sir?” Uncertain, N-083 stepped in. His boss led him to the Council seat holder.

“Ah, so you’re the Rick responsible.” Quantum Rick stood up, holding a hand out to clasp with N-083.

“Responsible?” N-083 was more the apprehensive. Like many Ricks, he wouldn’t admit to being responsible for anything. At least not without knowing what he was accused of first.

“For the formula of modified portal fluid, of course!” Quantum smirked, knowing the reason for the hesitance.

“Oh, uh yeah- yes.” N-083 nodded. Rick N-083 sweated, as he glanced between Quantum Rick and L-620.

“There’s no need to be nervous, Rick.” Quantum Rick assured, though his grin was less than reassuring.

“Please, call him Hitch. We-we all do around here.” L-620 insisted on his behalf with a laugh. N-083 did not want anyone but his brothers to call him Hitch, but correcting his superior in front of the Overseer was not wise. So he ground the back of his teeth against each other and bore it.

“Hitch,” Quantum stepped around the desk now. “As you know the Council keeps a close eye on all research regarding portal technology. In-including all advancements and modifications this division discovers.”

Rick N-083 knew that. Every Rick knew that, it’s why every Rick who worked for Portal Gun Pro was scrutinized and underwent a psychological analysis to ensure they were the least anarchic and abided by regulatory safety measures the most. It’s why Ricks from his dimension were sought after to be employed within this Division. They were the most cautious given their less than ideal experience with portal fluid. They knew the devastation of how an inaccurately processed portal fluid could devastate not just one life, but many.

“Y-yes. I do.”

“Good.” Quantum gestured to the Citadel Guard Rick holding the case. He stepped forward and set it on the desk. “In order to show solidarity and enthusiasm for your research, the Council will be grant use of two portal guns to test your optimised fluid.”

N-083’s mouth dropped open in awe and looked to his boss L-620 who nodded confirmation while slapping his shoulder. “Is it not violating Citadel law?”

“Yes. But w-we wouldn’t be handing you these portal guns without assurances.” Quantum Rick explained as the cases were closed. “Use of portal guns is prohibited and punishable. But these two are designed only to work _within_ the Citadel’s shield.” He opened the case to show off the two guns. One was the patented white gun, the other was a vibrant red.

“Wh-why is that one red?”

“Astute.” Quantum smiled. “The red one is for you to use your experimental fluid, the other for comparison. I understand you are thorough in your analysis, so here is your control group.”

N-083 looked up at Quantum Rick, having not expected the foresight from him. He was the Overseer of the Militia, why would - ?

“Never forget we all had similar origins.” Quantum Rick whispered as to explain his unspoken question. “Both guns are monitored, their locations tracked and we will, will have a list of every destination checked for any illicit activity.”

“This…” N-083 looked at L-620 who was beaming at him. “This is an honor sir.”

“This is a privilege. I hope you do not disappoint with your invention. The Citadel Militia could use al-alternate portal fluid.” Quantum Rick snapped his fingers.

The case was closed with the lock sealing it reset. N-083 placed his finger against it and dialed in a code. It would be coded to him, only open to him and be trackable by his dimension designation. A safety precaution, in the event he managed to rig the gun to send him elsewhere. Though, what would they do? It wasn’t like N-083 had a family they could threaten.

There was a list of further rules involved with the portal gun. As it was, only he was allowed to operate it, and only he was allowed to use them. If they became damaged or stolen, he would have to pay for them. Portal guns were expensive just to retrieve your own once you enter the Citadel but to _pay_ for a new one. N-083 cringed at the cost that would be.

When Quantum Rick left, L-620 laughed.

“Well now that that's over!” his boss opened up a cabinet door and pulled out a decanter of Hambrosian liqueur for the special occasion. “A drink-”

“Sir…” N-083 looked down at the case in his lap. “I only just worked out a formula, I haven’t even created a prototype fluid yet.”

L-620 waved it off. “Baugh. No worry. I ran your initial formula through simulations to test. You’ll get it. “

“B-but sir. What about my proposal on detecting particle patterns. Madam Ricci just said-”

“I’ll put K-45 on that one. I want you to concentrate your full efforts on this.”

“B-but-”

“Relax, it will go off without a hitch.” L-620 laughed at his oh so clever joke. N-083 grit his teeth but nodded.

“Oh and…” L-620 belched low as he shifted papers. “You have funding to bring on two Ricks. I’m also assigning Summer to your research unit, to keep track of things.”

“Summer?!” N-083 groaned.

 

* * *

 

N-083 entered the small lab he’d been assigned. All ingredients for standard portal fluid lay in boxes, ready for an inventory check. He set the case of portal guns down and moved through the lab, surviving every beaker to ensure sanitation and checking for cracks. Not that there would be, but he liked to be sure.

_Safety first._

He was in the midst of setting ingredients to distil and into the centrifuge when a loud sigh grated on his nerves.

“N-083. Y-you’re supposed to check out the candidates first.” Summer of dimension I-023-C, rolled her eyes before pinching the bridge of her nose with her glasses raised.

Summer I-023-C was one of a small handful of Summers on the Citadel. They were all from the same Dimension cluster where Beth never married Jerry and instead became a single mother with their Rick’s help.

N-083 only knew this because the story circled the watercooler on more than one occasion. Rumors at first before she happened upon them and straightened the story out. _No_ , her grandpa didn’t kill her father. Her grandpa was the best in the world.

Speaking of her grandpa. Rick of I-023-C stepped in after her. “Hitch, sh-she’s right you know. You should really check out the list first.”

The list was those who wanted in on this research. To have their names on the end product and to have the glory of awe from lesser Ricks.

“I-I know. I’m just di-distil- creating standard portal fluid first.” N-083 hated responding to Hitch but despite protests, the moniker stuck around.

“Woah woah. Let Summer handle that.” Rick I-023-C smirked as his granddaughter stepped around N-083 and took over. “You should consider the list. Specifically me. I took the liberty of attaching my credentials.”

“I-I know your credentials.” N-083 snatched the list from I-023-C. He knew his game, knew the angle he was trying for. I-023-C didn’t have a Morty either, but his Summer was his replacement and a damn good one. Not for the Morty waves of course, but because under his and Beth’s tutelage she was a great scientist and asset. The problem was, she was _still_ a teenager and as teenage girls go, they could be irrational and overly sensitive. Not exactly conducive to the study of science.

“I’ll look at these now.” N-083 grumbled as he slipped to the one office in the lab.

A dozen of Ricks wanted in. And almost none of them were qualified to actually work with him, not by his standards. Accompanying each file was a psychological profile on each Rick.

J-029 was slower than most Ricks but he was reckless and overly passionate. He never had kids and thus never held that responsibility. _But_ he was certainly nicer than other Ricks.

Q-23ε7 was known for his anti-Council sentiment, but his research was always top of the line, sometimes even ahead of N-083’s own research. But his political stance left him less than desirable, especially the precarious position they already were being under the Council’s ever dutiful eye.

Rick N-083 rubbed his eyes. I-032-C was the best of the bunch and he hated to admit it. Picking a second researcher would be difficult. But who said he had to pick only from provided?

Picking up his communicator he sent a ubiquitous text with a smirk and then turned it off as he headed back into the lab.

“Alright I-023-C. You’re- you’re in.” N-083 shot to the Rick who was lecturing Summer on the proper methods of incorporating a sanitization field in portal fluid.

“Oh? And who’s our third?”

“Working on it.” N-083 shrugged. “Let’s make a batch of standard portal fluid to get our baseline readings.”

They stopped for lunch. I-023-C Rick and Summer dispatched for their own break. Summer to report to L620 and Rick to get them lunch. But N-083 made a beeline for one of the other labs currently studying extending the current charge life of portal guns. It was what he’d been working on just yesterday, while working on the portal fluid formula as a side project.

It had started as a theory really. Start with the basics and work your way up. Sometimes the path to least resistance was the simplest solution.

Gravity was the weakest force due to the graviton particles naturally dispersing into other dimensions. It was the one force that Ricks everywhere mastered first. But only in defying it. Not traveling with it.

But what if they could travel with it? Gathering the graviton particles to naturally phase through dimensions, rather than the hackneyed way of punching through the fabric between realities? That fabric was permeable, they didn’t need to damage it. Part of the portal fluid was tearing through it and also repairing it once it closed. Most of the Council didn’t want to admit that one day the fabric will collapse, but that day was so far in the future they didn’t want to hear it. But if they could prevent it before it became a problem, why shouldn’t they?

It was a theory that worked itself into a workable formula. He was still perfecting it, thinking of possible ways to improve it, to control the way the particles went so they had some measure of control as to which dimension they went to. It was a pet project that he had submitted a research proposal for months ago. When no word came back about it, he moved onto other projects, other ideas. But sometimes he brought it home to tinker on it.

And now, he had a whole lab to test the formula.

N-083 smiled as he stepped out of the facility and took a quick jaunt toward Central Rick Park toward his usual spot, where he spied Rims was sitting with N-083-T and N-005.

“Ehh! Hitch, my man!” They raised their thermos of Citadel approved slop as he slid into the air for celebration.

“Alright, alright. Thanks.”

“Your-your own research team. Heard they saddled you with Summer.” N-005 scoffed. He’d never gotten on with his dimension’s Summer. Most Ricks didn’t.

“Yeah. I-023-C.”

“Ouch.”

“Oh boy, sorry for ya.”

“Don’t-don’t you at least get to pick your-your team?” N-005, or Neat Rick as they call him, questioned as he covered his mouth to belch and wipe his mouth.

“Yeah yeah. I-023-C is already on board.”

“You're kidding. I-023-C’s Rick _and_ Summer??” exclaimed Rims as he slicked his hair back in aggravation enough to knock his glasses. “I-I worked on a pro-project with them a year ago. Fuck me, they were insufferable.”

“Great.” N-083 groaned as he took out his own slop meal and sipped from it. “I still have an opening for one more actually.” N-083 looked to N-083-T or Ricket with expectation.

Ricket narrowed his eyes, his unibrow furrowing deep as he saw the look in Hitch’s eyes.

“I was hoping-” Hitch began.

“No.” Ricket interrupted with a bite of a Council approved sandwich.

“Aw come on!” Hitch tossed his arm over Ricket who shoved him off.

“No.”

“Why not?” Hitch’s immediate question stilled conversation.

“You know why.” Ricket snapped and slammed his lunch box closed.

“Ricket...sorry. Yo-you know I understand.”

“Not nearly enough, Rick N-083.” Ricket snapped as he stalked away.

“Ah shit. He’s gonnna- gonna sulk now.” Neat Rick muttered as he wiped the inside of his thermos with a moist towelette.

“Think I should go after him?” Hitch asked Rick N-062.

“If you’re asking, then you should.” Rims shrugged.

Hitch downed his slop and tossed his sandwich to Rims before taking off after Ricket.

“Hey. Rick-Rick-auugh-” He pounded his chest. He shouldn’t have downed the slop in one go. It usually caused heartburn and it would not help his gastroesophageal reflux disease. “Ricket!” Hitch caught up to him and grasped his shoulder. “Hey man. I-I didn’t mean-”

“No, of course you didn’t.” Ricket pushed him off and kept headed back into the building.

“It’s not like I don’t understand. I lost Beth too.”

“Wrong. You lost Beth. I..” Ricket looked down. “I lost them both.”

“Then why do you even work here.” Hitch asked.

“To stop Ricks from doing it to other Ricks.” Ricket grumbled as he signed his way through security.

Hitch huffed as he was patted down and then caught up with Ricket to continue the conversation. “I understand. But… this research. It’s-its less dangerous.”

“You don’t know that.”

“And that’s why I want you on the team. You’re-you’re- you’d be the perfect check for safety. Better than me.” Hitch explained.

“Safety?”

“Yeah! I want- I want all the precautions, sensors, and and interdimensional monitors. I-I don’t wanna fuck this up. For me or anyone.”

“But you will. We already have a solid portal fluid. What use is trying for another one if it will just blow up again?”

“We have to at least try.”

“I did my trying.” Ricket shook him off and stormed off.

“Damnit.” Hitch sighed. He wanted Ricket on his research team. But he could do without.

Returning to the Lab he spied Both Rick and Summer of I-023-C staring at the grey case.

“Hey wha-what’s in here?” Summer asked with a belch that made her grandfather proud. The two laughed.

“Portal Guns.” Hitch slumped into chair.

“Shit a dick, really?” Summer jumped out of her.

“Sumsum, language.” Rick chided her.

Summer rolled her eyes but slid next to Hitch.

“Well, can we see them?”

Hitch rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Fine. But we can’t use them. It’s limited to inside the Citadel and only so many yards away.” he popped open the case.

“Haven’t seen one of these since we first came to the Citadel.” Rick scratched his chin as he picked up the white portal gun but a red light dinged on the case and a disembodied voice chimed.

“Unauthorized Rick access. Put the Portal Gun down or prepare to be neutralized.”

Rick yelped and Hitch snatched the portal gun back and the disembodied voice changed.

“Authorized Rick access. Thank you.” The light blinked off.

“Jeez, the Citadel isn’t playing.”

“Guess I’m the only one allowed to actually uh...wield it.” Hitch set it back in the case. “Right, let’s get to making some portal fluid!”

Making portal fluid was a delicate process. You could make just enough for one portal gun in your basic home chemistry set, but you risked the chance of contaminants and gross dimensional particles affecting it. Especially if you used portals anywhere near the chemistry set. It required as neutral of an environment which was created using neutrino and anti-neutrino particles. Which usually happened with a bit of an explosive effect.

Thankfully, the lab came with a chamber to lock and localize it, for safety. Once the environment was neutralized, they moved the sterilized equipment in and began. Creating portal fluid in bulk at the right temperatures required time. Time that they had.

A week and they had enough. Then, they began creating his test formula.

A process in and of itself. Isolating graviton particles and creating _liquid_ gravity was trying. Getting it to release in a portal format to step through - a nightmare.

Late shifts, no lunches, and with the security clearance to bring research home, Hitch was concentrating his full effort into this. A week in and L-620 wanted a report. Two weeks and L-620 demanded two reports. With each week more reports of progress were required and Summer was held responsible for running them. I-023-C Rick was right there next to him pushing the boundaries of the portal fluid.

“Wh-hy don’t we just use graviton as a force, to push the pores of fabric of reality-”

“It would disrupt some dimensions if we stretched the pores too far.” Hitch snapped as he drew up another formula. “It’d be like like trying to take a shit when your anal ring has been ruptured. Just spilling everywhere in a free-fall. Like oh-oh god. Diarrhea.”

“Gross.” Summer piped up from her spot.

“Shut up Summer.” Both Ricks mirrored each other.

“That's what portal fluid does.”

“We-we’re trying to make it different! So it doesn’t”

“No, what we’re trying to do is make it more efficient and cost - urrp - effective.”

“That’s not what the research is.” Hitch slammed his fist down. “If we just-just use graviton as a force it will be no better than the standard. We’ll damage everything.”

“Oh pfft. It won’t damage anything. The pores will bounce back.”

“Not-not always. Don’t you-you care about the safety of our reality. About what punching the fabric with holes over and over will do?”

“Oh here we go, Hippie Rick everybody.” Rick rolled his eyes. “Out-out to save the multiverse.” RIck slow clapped. “You can’t account for everything.”

“We should at least take into account that our actions will matter. Fa-fabric doesn’t hold up if you keep wearing it out. E-eventually-augh- you have to replace it or-or-or you end up with no fabric.” Hitch shouted.

“I’m okay with being naked.” Rick smirked.

“Grandpa!” Summer’s tone was disgusted.

“Sorry Sumsum, Grandpa’s just making a point.”

“Wha-what point are yo-you making? The fact you don’t care if if you damage our-our-auugh reality as we know it. Dooming us to the vacuum of space, living an unending purgatory of useless thoughts and meaning. Your point wo-won’t matter if we-we aren’t ourselves, Rick!” Hitch seethed, breath heaving. “You-you shouldn’t just think of the now. You-you gotta thi-think of the future, beyond your own actions. Because they affect other people, other wo-wor- realities. If you don’t you-you end up being short-short sighted and then and then you’re trying to invent teleportation. Working tirelessly be-because other scientist have-haven’t caught on that we need to see the beyond. But they’ve been too busy des-destroying the planet. So you-you make a portal gun and you don’t even test it you just go for it. But your cal-calculations were wrong and...” He trailed off, realizing what he almost blurted out.

The lab was silent. His gaze tracked between the two as realization dawned on them.

“Is that what this is about?” Summer was the first one to speak. Her tone soft and _pitying._

Hitch glared at her. “No. Yes… I…” He grit his teeth, hands fisted in his hair. He didn’t want to talk about this. With a growl he snatched the portal guns case and stalked up the stairs.

“Where are you going?” Summer asked, her tone laced with rampant concern that Hitch ignored.

“To clear my head and work somewhere else!” Hitch snarled.

“You can’t take those with you!”

“Newsflash Summer, I’ve got security clearance!” Hitch lifted his middle finger as he stormed off.

 

* * *

 

The fauna and flora of Central Rick Park usually gave him a moment of peace to relax, clear his head. But Hitch was too wound up.

He would have headed to his apartment but he still had the rest of his shift for this day to finish up. Not to mention he did have to take the case back to the facility. The case was allowed out but only a certain radius from the facility. It beeped a screeching tone if he took it too far. A lesson he learned when he was exhausted and sick last week but still wanted to work on it yet not infect everyone else.

He was sitting with it in front of him. Unlocked.

Perhaps he was being too long sighted? Maybe the Council was right to not worry about it right then?

He rubbed his eyes in an attempt to soothe the throbbing pain he’d been ignoring behind his eyelids from dryness and sleep deprivation. He needed water and a good five hours of sleep.

“Fuck…” He groaned and set his head down on the case. He had to apologize to Summer before it got back to Dic- er L-620. “Fuck.” He tapped his head against the case. “Fuck!” He did it again slightly harder. “FUCK!” He slammed his head harder, almost wishing for a concussion but none came. Instead a throat was cleared.

“Uh… ah geez. Are-are you alright?” It was a Guard Morty. Just beyond him was his partner, a Guard Rick. Seldom did you see a Morty alone in this part of the Citadel. The only place they were ever alone was Morty Academy and Mortytown, where Rickless Morty’s congregated and lived, having either lost their Ricks or abandoned them.

_Poor bastards._

Hitch stared at the Morty. He’d always been envious of the Ricks with a Morty. Having that extra layer of protection from the Citadel and Council. He never even got the chance to hide from them. He didn’t even try to when given the chance. Hitch had never requested a Morty. Not even when he got over his daughter’s death (yeah he was _way_ over it, note sarcasm) or the divorce. He just settled into Citadel life.

“Y-yeah. I’m fine.” He muttered as he sat up. “Lo-look - I needed a long look at my s-sorry life.”

“Alright. Just-just making sure. Some of the other Ricks were complaining.” Morty raised his hand when Hitch looked around. “Ju-just- you take care of yourself, Rick.”

“It’s...Hitch.” He mumbled.

Guard Morty nodded. “Hitch.”

The name didn’t grate on his nerves when coming from a Morty. It was even nice.

Groaning, he opened the case. He did say he was going to work on the portal gun while here. Maybe a change of scenery would help. Pulling his tool kit from his belt he popped open the red portal gun. The purple portal fluid crystal was his modified fluid, using liquid graviton. He connected the crystal to what would make it project the portal.

The idea was rather than forcing the fabric to open, the fluid allowing particlization of those stepping through it via the pores in reality and then reforming them in the exact same order. Thus far it’s worked short range with inanimate objects and living creatures like hamsters, dogs, and monkeys. But they couldn’t get it to work beyond twenty yards. They hadn’t even tested it on Ricks or Mortys yet.

Maybe it was time to because sometimes you just needed to get your hands dirty. Or… well disassembled by gravity and put back together.

Assembling the gun together again he set it in the case and moved further into the Park, away from onlookers. Wouldn’t want to worry any of the Guard Ricks or entice a Rick to steal the guns afterall. Once in a good spot he pulled the red gun out and pointed at a rock by the artificial pond and watched the portal form as it did in the lab. It was an concentric pattern that pulsed with the artificial gravity of the Citadel before settling. An aura of disintegration formed around the portal with a layer of reassembly. He could see leaves falling in and reforming repeatedly.

Seeing it react with an environment that wasn’t sterile was fascinating.

Htich stepped to it and tossed a stick in it. The aura was disturbed by the intruder, instantly the stick dissolved into microscopic specks that filtered through the purple portal. They came through the other end as particulates that swarmed until it formed the same stick.

“Alright.” He nodded and then stuck one finger in the aura. It shifted around slowly dissolving the finger but he pulled back and as he did the finger reformed. Once he got too close though, the force of the graviton particles would push him through and out the other end from the sheer force. “Okay…” It was painless. If a bit odd to feel his finger stretch beyond what he thought it should be. Communication still traveled through each cell and particle.

Now for the real test.

Hitch dropped the case down. With a held breath he stepped through. The force of graviton pulled him apart, atom by atom. He was a being and also not. It was odd as part of him was on this side of the portal and the other formed on the other side.

“Ugghhh..” The sound he emitted was lost as the portal treated it like a blackhole and then...then he was whole again and stumbling as the aura of the portal pushed him away.

“Woah.” He gapped at the portal. It worked. It... _worked_. “YES!”

Now to test distance.

He closed the portal from the gun. A feature he incorporated was being able to close the portal when he wanted. The fluid draining and the graviton particles dissipating as they naturally would leaving little to no damage to the fabric of reality. The purple faded slowly in the same concentric pattern it had formed. The pulsing grew less and soon it was gone.

He set up a portal again, watching as it formed but he had set the coordinates to beyond twenty yards. He knew exactly where.

He did the stick test and promptly ran to the exit portal. His legs burned as he skidded to the other side of the Park. There was the portal. The stick should have passed through already but all he saw was a pile of ash.

Reaching for the ash, he intended to stir them but the aura of the portal caught him. The disintegration caught him, yanking not just him into the portal but the ashes. He yelped, reaching behind him for some purchase on anything and stumbled back. His arm disassembled into particles of remotely the same shape but he could see through it.

“Ohfuckohfuck.” It wasn’t painless. “Ah shit…FUCK!” He clutched his arm only remembering to shut off the portal as he held his partially particlized arm aloft. But very quickly it pulsed until it clustered together to make his arm whole again.

“Hitch?” Ricket was standing in the clearing, shock on his face.

“Ricket…Its...it’s not what it looks like.” Hitch began.

“Where did you get that portal gun?” Ricket gasped.

“Okay, it is exactly what it looks like.” Hitch stood up, shakey. His arm however had trouble remaining in this plane and sunk through the dirt. He had to yank it out and glare at it. It wasn’t completely sealed together yet but it was getting there. Ever so slowly. “It’s for my research.”

“I get that but… really? Outside of the lab?!” Ricket stepped forward and snatched the gun.

“Wait don’t-” The case began beeping with the same threat. “Put it in the case! Put it in the case!” Ricket did as told and Hitch sighed as he slammed the case shut.

“Let me see your arm.” Ricket glowered.

“What no. It’s fine.” Hitch held back.

“Hitch, your arm does not look fine.”

“Ricket, it’s fine. It’s just… uh reintegrating with the rest of my particles.” Hitch turned his arm. He could see the rest of his skeletal structure had reformed and now the muscles and blood particulates were clustering.

“Unbelievable. Is this why you wanted me on this project? To prevent your reckless behavior?” Ricket growled.

“No. I wanted you on the project to-to...well help.”

“Why? Why would I ever help with portal fluid modification. I don’t even understand why you still work on it.” Ricket seethed. “It’s the reason why you lost your daughter, the reason why mine and my wife are dead. It’s foolish for us to continue on that path, it leads only to destruction.”

“Then their deaths would be for nothing.” Hitch snapped.

Ricket stilled.

“If you just give up on your research because-because they died, then… then their deaths were for nothing.” Hitch sighed. “At least you probably learned more about precautionary steps because… because of what you lost.”

The silence between them was deafening but the park was lively with chatter and belches.

Hitch and Ricket stared each other down. If it weren’t for Ricket possessing a goatee and Hitch being as clean shaven as he could be, they would have been near identical. There was also the matter of his arm, the skin just now sealing over exposed flesh and the sleeve of his sweater and labcoat quickly following it. They were less complex than the rest of his arm.

Hitch stretched his hand and tested its solidity. “Well, at least that’s fixed.”

“Unbelievable.” Ricket sighed. “Alright, I’m in. Because for fuck’s sake you need someone else watching your back than just I-23C.” Ricket shook his head.

“Yes…” Hitch smiled. “Now help me figure out a way to extend the distance. The new portal fluid only goes so far and it doesn’t have the same reach as the standard.”

“Have you tried incorporating some of the ingredients of standard.” Ricket asked, both not wanting to re-breach the topic of their lost families due to their error.

“It would destabilize the entire formula. Plus there’s the method of cross contamination...” Hitch trailed off but considered the idea further. “Unless... I inject standard portal fluid into the crystal instead of graviton fluid.”

“You synthesised the crystal for graviton.” Ricket offered. “And we know portal fluid works across vast distances without any limit, maybe if the crystal-”

“-treated it like graviton. I just have to re-calibrate the gun for that.” Hitch smiled. “See this is why I needed you. Not just for safety protocols.” He opened the case and popped open both guns, carefully swirling the green portal fluid and pouring it into the canister that held the graviton crystal. The crystal sucked it in, swirling the green liquid around with a pulse. Closing the normal portal gun, he recalibrated the red portal gun.

“Did you make sure to reboot the interdimensional catalogue?” Ricket peered over.

“Yes.” Hitch nodded.

“What about the the new energy readings. It would be a bit depleted.”

“I did the calculations and am inputting them in now.”

“What about-” Ricket paused as Hitch stared at him. “Alright alright, just making sure.”

“Well... nothing ventured nothing gained.” Hitch closed the gun and powered it up. He eyed coordinates.

“Lets keep the distance to something conservative, yeah?” Ricket asked with a slight concern.

“Fifteen yards should do it.” Hitch set it and set out a portal.

Or he thought he did.

“Uh…” He looked at the gun. The indicator let him know a portal had been opened but it wasn’t right in front of him.

“Huh, did you make sure to re-calibrate the-” Ricket began but stopped when an explosion rocked Central Rick Park. Hitch and Ricket went flying to the floor. The gun skittered over a rock and the crystal cracked again. There was a distant explosion and the Citadel shifted. Screams filtered through the flora.

“Shit shit shit…” Hitch felt the artificial gravity go and he went flying up. “Ricket!” He looked toward his brother who was gripping a tree branch as the water came flying up.

“The gun, Hitch! Turn off the portal!” Ricket screeched.

Hitch had already spotted it, floating in the distance. There was a deafening screech of metal. Swimming in the air he pushed toward the gun, grasping it as he saw over the trees toward the streets of flying ships with Ricks and Mortys flailing as they tried to grip street lamps and curbs.

“TURN THE PORTAL OFF, HITCH!” Ricket reminded him just as he pressed it. Almost instantly the artificial gravity kicked back and he plummeted to the floor.

“Fuck…” Hitch clutched the gun close as sounds of shooting had him look to Ricket who slid the case to him.

“Put it away.”

“But-”

“Put the fucking gun away, Hitch!”

Case snapping shut, he looked at Ricket and they ran toward the sound of shooting, despite their instincts telling them to run away.

A dissolving purple and green portal with concentric waves filled the center of the park. Littered along the floor where it lay was bodies, as though they had fallen from a height. Some of them had landed on top of each other. The survivors stumbling to their feet and looking around with a wild panic as Guard Ricks descended on them. The ones who tried to run were shot down and those who didn’t fell to their knees with their hands raised up, pleading. Guard Ricks demanded to know their name and their dimension but they looked confused and couldn’t answer. Those too were shot dead.

But there was something unsettling about the survivors of the portal and those who complied as best they could to the Guard requests. Even as they were arrested and hauled up, Hitch could see them. Their faces, body type, and height were all the same with slight variations in clothing style or hair color and style.

Even more unsettling, they neither looked like a Rick. Or a Morty. Or a Summer. Or even a Beth or a Jerry. They were a complete stranger.

Who were they?


	2. Through the Ricking Glass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quinn was brought through a portal. She traveled through space, time, and dimensions unwillingly. Only to wake up in a cartoon world. Turns out, that is the least of her worries.

The force of gravity slammed Quinn down into the midst of a screaming squirming chaos. Bodies squelched as they smacked against the floor. Bones cracking, shattering and splintering. Skin bursting a torrent of blood, shit, bile, and brain matter. Others, like her, hadn’t been too far off the ground but it knocked what little breath she’d sucked in and held from her. Panic laced through her when she wasn’t sure she’d be able to breathe. It quickly dissipated when she didn’t suffocate and her lungs filled with oxygen.

Quinn’s vision blurred around edges and centers, and just blurred everything. Her hand gripped the ground for purchase. Once steady the world filtered in clear. The feeling of being whole again settled into her. Only seconds ago she was staring at her disembodied hands and limbs in the form of particles as though she'd been blasted through a force field of spinners. The shock of the transformation reeled her but as her hands now looked normal they felt wrong, disjointed, and pixelated.

When she could see her surroundings, it left her flummoxed beyond comprehension. Her first thought was that she'd passed out with her VR headset on. Which would explain the vision of the vacuum of space and the blackhole around her minutes ago. Her second thought as she stumbled to her feet was she was tripping acid balls on crack. The good kind, the kind you’d stuff your whole face in and breathe in deep and it _should_ kill you but well there you were.

Quinn flailed her hands in front of her, reaching for something as her legs shuddered. She was unsure of how they worked anymore as they bent backward. _Wrong_.

Desperate for a tether of reality, she clutched at the floor. Gasping and howling, she ripped out chunks of grass and dirt. Wobbling to her right knee with an attempt to bend it correctly. The moment she tried it snapped from being backward bending to forward. She collapsed to the dirt.

She rubbed her leg as her other knee cracked and snapped to normal. Bones crunched and she let out a wail that was mirrored around her. Her particles aura’d around her and settled correct. With frantic fingers she rubbed her legs, feeling them _right_ and _whole_.

Dozens of marching feet echoed around her.

Rapid blinking cleared the vestiges of her vision. There were old men completely identical to each other. Same uniform, same face, same hair, same livid expression. Their hands brandished weapons at others in a similar situation as her. Quinn stared at them and blanched.

 _Clones_ . She gaped. _Clones of herself!_ It was the only explanation her brain could sputter together. But how? Human cloning had been outlawed before it could even reach human testing. So how? How was she seeing herself be confronted with clones of someone else with guns pointed at clones of herselves?

She shook her head as her own voice pled for mercy. She wasn't talking. Quinn jerked to the source, mouth agape. She felt a scream bubble up as phasers- _phasers_ \- ripped through their skull. Instead of slumping and falling to the ground they blew into the air as dismantled particles like half formed specters screaming in silence.

They were gone. With no body left as proof.

Quinn jerked away from the scene only to be confronted with other versions of herselves fleeing once that first phaser went off, terrified of what would befall them. Some scattered to the wind, others fell to the floor. Part of themselves bursting into chunks of flesh, dissolving into reality. Other versions of herself ran far but fell over as the phasers targeted them. They decayed into dust, ash, and atoms. Bodies half disintegrated or withered with mouths agape in agony and eyes wide with no lights on upstairs. If they weren’t falling apart then they were burning. Burnt flesh, bone, and meat wafted in fumes toward her. Quinn gagged.

Bile rose in her mouth and vomit spewed and bubbled. She tried to move away from the spill but whatever force field she'd been shoved through left her disoriented. She couldn't push herself off the ground and she couldn’t stand up again either.

“Oh god-” her throat heaved again as the same copies of old men in uniform descended on the group of herselves. Their gazes mad and hair wild gray, so gray it was almost blue. She couldn't see beyond the onslaught of them, couldn’t even comprehend what had happened.

“Han-urh-hands in the air!” One of the old men demanded as he came upon her.

She thrust her hands up in compliance, fully aware of the proximity of the phaser gun to her skull. What would happen if it had point blank range? Would she melt, fall into a puddle of ash?

“What is your dimension designation!” The old man roared at her. Other versions of him barked the same question to countless versions of herself on their knees, sprawled on the floor or already with their hands bound.

“I-I… I don’t know.” She stammered, terror ripped through her. “Wh-where am I?” She pleaded. “Please-please don’t hurt me!” Quinn begged.

“On-on you-urgh-your stomach.” Their stammering belched ridden phrase was incomprehensible. “On your fucking stomach!”

The scream jolted her and she just managed to roll over into her own filth, drenching her clothes in it.

“C-cuff her, Morty.”

“Ugh. There’s vomit.” The little boy besides the older one stepped around.

Quinn hadn’t even really seen him before. He also wielded a phaser gun and bore his own clones that accompanied some of the groups of the taller one.

“Please...please.” She mumbled. They didn’t hear as her face pushed into her own filth. They tied her hands together behind her back.

“Shut up.” Both of them barked at her.

“Ow ow… please...just let me go.” The cuffs they used pinched her skin and pulled her arms tight against her back and at a painful angle forcing her shoulders back with her chest arched forward.

“I said… Shut. Up.” A boot dug into her back and another bashed against her head.

“Ugh!” She struggled then, feeling pain explode and knowing she’d be bruised. Anger roared and she struggled harder now, bucking the kid - Morty was his name- off her.

“Stop struggling.” Morty said trying to get ahold of her but she wriggled with newfound gusto. That’s when a boot pressed against the back of her throat, forcing her head down and mouth open. The taste of her own vomit forced her diaphragm up and released milky green stomach bile that she coughed on.

“I’m sorry!” Only it didn’t come out quite so clear.

In the distance other versions of herself were in similar predicaments.

“We got the intruders. Human. No, it’s not a Rick. No. No sir. It’s not. Neither sir. We’ve rounded up the survivors. Some of them…” The voice of the old man paused as he pressed his boot harder on her neck. It was just shy of snapping it, either paralyzingly or kill her. “Resisted. Necessary force and action was taken. I’ll have the Mortys take the remaining ones to the detention center.”

Quinn ceased her struggling as oxygen became difficult to inhale. The puddle of vomit wasn’t helping matters. She sputtered as the dirt pressed under her weight, creating a pool. With no air available and almost inhaling her own vomit, her vision darkened as she tried to push the boot off her.

Slowly, her hands went slack and she stopped moving.

This was how it would end. Quinn didn’t even know how. The circumstances involved, why, or even where she was anymore.

“Rick!” The Guard Morty called his superior’s attention to the detainee.

“Oh shit.” Guard Rick stared down and pulled his foot off. He hefted the unmoving body up. Her face purplish red and lips pale. With a pound to her back, her mouth gasped open and what vomit she’d inhaled came spilling out. She heaved breaths and then proceeded to cough and hack more vomit out. A hand held her hair out of her face.

“Take her-urgh to the transport.” The Guard Rick barked at his partner.

Quinn was hunched over, trying to control her breath and stop the tears in her eyes when she came eye level with the Guard Morty who held her bound hands still and also was holding her hair. She blinked as he came into view. Something about his name, his demeanor rang bells in her head.

“M-morty?” She stuttered in awe, her head swiveled to the older man and blanched as his wild hair came into full view. He was tall _tall_ and lanky. His uniform pristine and white, though there were smudges of dirt where he had struggled with her. “Rick…” Her head snapped back and forth between the two. They looked at her but she didn’t have much time as Morty pushed her along.

She looked down at her legs as they walked. Their shape _wrong,_  their depth _wrong_ and their shading _wrong._ Her breath came in faster. She hadn’t been able to clearly see before but as her lungs filled everything cleared. Or rather the fog in her brain cleared and she could now process what she was seeing and what she was seeing wasn’t real. Or it shouldn’t be.

“What…” She eyed the world and she begged, seriously begged she really had passed out with her VR headset on. But VR hadn’t found a way to transfer pain and near death experiences. They were years off. She whipped her head to stare at Morty. It looked like him. _Exactly_ like him. She half expected to see a Mr. Youseeks any second now. “What kinda fucking Roger Rabbit Cool World bullshit is this?!"

 

* * *

 

Quinn was pushed toward a large cell with more copies of herself. The ride in had been silent save for the muffled sniffling of some of the other Quinns in the hover vehicle. She hadn’t gotten a good look before at the world on account of almost drowning in her own vomit.

“Well that was dark.” She muttered at the thought. Her hands were untied and the Guard Morty pushed her in before the door sealed behind her.

She had the time and space to freak out now. The problem was however, not all the Quinns had come to the same conclusion as her. If she freaked out, they would too. Then they would all panic.

So she sat, as close to the corner as possible. The other Quinns who knew, she could tell. Somehow from their expression of awe, confusion, and dawning as they looked around, she knew they knew. Knew they could remember the cartoon show.

The others who didn’t were just staring at their hands, flexing them as though that would breathe depth to them.

There was depth, it just… it wasn’t the same. Quinn could tell the depth of something, but it was…somehow different? Cartoonish. Like she was a toon or doodle. Great the next thing she’d need is for her voice to get any squeakier. Soon she’ll be spouting lines like: _Remember me, Eddie? When I killed your brother? I talked just like this?_

She laughed. The idea entirely absurd but an actual possibility given her surroundings.

“The fuck you laughing about?” Came a Quinn who hadn’t stopped pacing back and forth in the cell.

All the Quinns had their bags and effects confiscated but they still remained in their clothes. Some of them had much more colorful clothing choice. Like this Quinn. She was wearing dark baggy pants, a tight tank top with some sort of anime design on it. Her makeup was dark but her hair was bleached a near pure platinum blonde.

Quinn remember the phase she’d went through where all she wanted was to have white hair, _like in anime!_ She’d moved past that phase. Clearly this Quinn hadn’t.

She laughed again. Weaboo Quinn stormed over and grabbed her by her collar, but she didn’t have the strength to actually lift her up. Quinn cackled at her.

“What the FUCK are you laughing about?!” Weaboo Quinn growled. “You think this is funny? You think sitting in a cell is funny, Huh? You think being abducted is funny?"

Quinn calmed herself long enough to address the question. “Nope. But I find your hair, hilarious. What are you Santa Clause’s punk elf?”

Weaboo Quinn punched her. Or tried to.

“Fuck.” She swore. It hurt plenty but it wasn’t nearly as effective. See Quinn bet that this version of herself didn’t know how to fight. All bluster and no brawn under that pathetic anime-fangirl exterior.

“Uh… itaaaiiii…” Weaboo Quinn pulled back her hand and cradled it against her chest.

“You’re fucking joking. Did you really just-” Quinn laughed again. Other versions of herself joined in, some snickering, others smirking.

“The fuck is this otaku…” A Quinn with a backwards cap and sporty clothing asked. “Dweeb.”

“Fuck off, Sporty Spice.” Weaboo Quinn snapped.

“Dude, not cool. Sporty was the best Spice. You don’t insult the bae.” Another Quinn, this one immaculately dressed, with perfectly combed hair and freshly pressed clothes. Or they would have been had it not been for the scuffle in the park.

“Hey… y-you guys should quiet down.” Came a timid Quinn from the other corner of the cell. This one also wore dark clothing but it was baggy and she swam in it, as though she was hiding her figure.

“And what are you supposed to be? A whale?” Weaboo Quinn mocked. “I bet she’s huge under there.”

None of the other Quinns laughed at that. In fact all of them grew silent and glared at Weaboo.

“Fuck off.” Quinn growled and stood up, moving to sit by the timid Quinn.

“What are you two lovers then?” Weaboo Quinn mocked.

“Would it matter?” Another Quinn stood up, shifting to sit by Quinn and Shy Quinn. She mostly wore pink and shades of brown. Her hair had the vestiges of perfectly formed curls that were strung out from the fight. There was blood on her khakis and she had broken acrylic nails. Barbie Quinn crossed her arms.

“Guys… seriously...y-you should be quiet.” Shy Quinn interrupted while pointing at the corner of the ceilings. “They’re watching. Th-Those aren’t just cameras. T-They’re also microphones. Th-they can hear everything we’re saying.”

All Quinns stared at the device. Some of them backed up. The camera swiveled tracking movement.

“Shit.” Weaboo Quinn sat down.

“We should be quiet.” Shy Quinn muttered low. “M-maybe play telephone to communicate?”

“Telephone? Are you kidding?” Another Quinn with a side pony tail and bright eighties styled clothing with legwarmers and armwarmers. She spoke with a harsh whisper that wasn’t a whisper at all but a raspy voice. “Don’t you think _Ricks_ would be able to hear us even if we’re whispering?”

“Shut up.” A Quinn with glasses muttered. She kept touching her glasses, her fingers tapping on her leg. “We can’t let them know we know.”

“Know? Know what?” Weaboo Quinn asked. Clearly this Quinn didn't watch any animated shows outside of the classos anime style.

“Oh for fuck’s sake. If they didn't know before they do now.” Quinn groaned and lept to her feet. She faced the camera and flipped them off. “Hey you. Yeah you Ricks and Mortys watching. See this?” She waved her middle fingers for effect. “This means peace among worlds.”

"What are you doing?!"

It got someone’s attention because the door to the cell opened and in came a Guard Morty. His gaze swept across the room. All Quinns tensed as he made eye contact with each of them. But he passed over Weaboo, Sporty, Eighties and even Barbie quickly. His gaze fell on Quinn and lingered there as she lowered her hands, no longer flipping off the voyeurs. While he looked away, another Quinn waved, getting her attention. She was the one with glasses. She made a gesture with her hands.

Quinn shook her head, not sure of what she was saying. The Glasses Quinn sighed and rolled her eyes, mouthing something. Quinn watched, watching as she enunciated something. _Sign?_ Sign for what? A sign of something? Glasses Quinn glared and just spelled out the word using her fingers. _Sign Language?_ Oh!

Quinn shook her head with a shrug to indicate she didn't know. Glasses Quinn leaned her head back against the wall, shaking it.

“You.” Guard Morty pointed to the corner. All Quinns looked and he was pointing at Shy Quinn.

“M-me?” Her eyes wide, shoulders shaking as she gripped the seat below her.

“Yes. Come on.” Guard Morty gestured for her to follow him.

“Woah woah.” Quinn stepped in front of Shy Quinn, hands up. Guard Morty tensed as other Quinns rose too.

“Hey wait a second.” Barbie Quinn joined in to protect the timid one.

“You can’t just take her.” Came a darker skinned Quinn with asymmetrical braids in her hair.

“You haven’t even told us why we’re being detained!”

“We wanna see our lawyers!”

“What about our RIGHTS!”

“I’m thirsty!” 

Quinn after Quinn lept up. Their voices joining and cacophonous as they blocked the Guard Morty from taking Shy Quinn. It was working right until he pulled his phaser gun and shot Sporty Quinn. Her body slumped down and all Quinns shut up. Slowly they backed up as Guard Morty pointed his gun at them. They sat down with their backs against the wall.

“If it were up to me, you’d all be dead already. Too much of a hassle. But the Council wants to know how you got in.” Guard Morty glared at them. His foot tapped impatiently as Quinn after Quinn pulled away.

It was only Barbie Quinn and Quinn that were left standing up for Shy Quinn. The gun swiveled to Barbie Quinn who swallowed and muttered a low apology before sitting. The gun swiveled to Quinn who stood her ground. Her eyes blazing.

She was crazy. The entire situation was nuts. Or maybe she had a death wish after nearly dying. She should have died.

“Step aside.” Guard Morty said with a bored tone.

“No.”

“I will shoot you.”

“I was supposed to die earlier anyway. Almost drowned in my own vomit because one of your Ricks was keeping me pressed down with his foot.” Quinn seethed. “But you’ll be no better than a Rick if you shoot me. What’s the saying? Just Ricks killing Mortys? Guess it will be  Morty's killing Quinns.”

The Guard Morty stilled, his head tilted in confusion.

“I mean, we don’t even know if she’ll come back if you take her. And if you’re anything like your grandfather, she’s just going to die. Heartless, cold. I wonder what your _mother_ would think. How is Beth?” Quinn continued. This was foolish but she kept going. “Or better yet, what would your father think. Poor innocent Jerry. Look at the monster his son has become. Just like his grandpa though, every bit of his grandpa.”

Morty glared and put his gun away. “Rick.” He stepped out of the cell.

“What?” Quinn blanched as a Guard Rick stepped in.

“Interesting. Exactly how much do you know?”

“What the fuck?” Quinn looked at Rick and then the Morty that just stepped out of the cell door.

“What the fuck is right. C-caugh come with us then, seeing as how you wanted to sacrifice yourself sooo much.” Rick pulled his gun out and gestured for her to walk out.

“Hey wait!” Weaboo Quinn shot up. Rick shot her leg to silence her and any other dissenters. She howled as part of her leg disassembled into its particles but its general shape remained.

“Unlike, M-morty. I won’t hesitate to kill every single one of you.” Rick stepped to the side of the door and pointed. “Now go.”

Quinn gulped, suddenly very afraid of what lay out there.

“Come on _tribute."_  Guard Rick laughed.

“This isn’t the Hunger Games.” Quinn mumbled. _Or was it?_

Guard Morty put her in cuffs. At least this time they were in front of her. Between him and Rick, she was escorted toward an elevator and down a long hallway. The colors reminded her exactly of the show. Tacky golds, light blues, blue greens and everything aggrandizing Ricks.

“Megalomaniac.” She muttered at every picture, statue, and hologram of Rick. At each one, she spotted Morty smirking. The Rick beside her just pushed her forward with a shove until they got to the Council Chamber. The six seats were filled with the Council of Ricks and the chamber itself was filled with other Ricks and Mortys, watching the proceedings.

She felt like C-137 when they were presented to the Council of Ricks. She wondered if she’d get her very own Lawyer Morty too. She cast a gaze around, nope. Sadly no Lawyer Morty.

As the Ricks and Mortys got a closer look at her some began whispering to each other. Some of the Ricks gave her appraising lascivious looks. Some of the Mortys did the same too.

Quinn shivered in disgust.

Riq IV called the room to silence.

She only got one shot at this. To either tell the truth right from the get go, or try to deceive them. But how do you deceive the smartest men in the multiverse?

You don’t.

Ricks in the context of the show knew far more about the universe than she could ever dream of knowing. It was fun to fantasize of knowing, seeing, and experiencing things but in the show, and presumably in this reality, they knew everything. So what was going to be her story? What plan would she have?

She didn’t have any. _Fuck it, let’s wing it._

“Convict Bet-” Riq IV was interrupted by the Guard Rick whispering. “Well where is she?” Riq IV glared at her, his brow deep and forehead wrinkles more pronounced because of it. “She volunteered? Alright…”

Riq IV cleared his throat. “Convict Epsilon.”

“Epsilon? What the fuck am I Church now? Do I get a Caboose too?” Quinn couldn’t help her smart mouth. A few of the Morty’s snickered around her as they got the reference. She grinned. “Where’s my Tucker?”

“Bow chicka bow wow.” Came a fairly decent Tucker impersonation from the onlookers. Quinn was fairly sure it was a Morty, especially as they were the ones laughing and giggling.

“Silence!” Riq IV shouted.

“Convict Epsilon-”

“How am I already a convict? Shouldn’t there have been a trial first?” Quinn interrupted him.

“There was a trial.” Riq IV explained with a roll of his eyes.

“Without my presence? Don’t I at least get to share my side of the story? What ever happened to innocent until proven guilty?” Quinn stepped forward. The Guard Morty tried to grip her arm to pull her back but she shrugged him off.

“The trial was to determine your guilt. By whatever means you and your ilk created a portal into Central Rick Park, causing the disruptions of our artificial gravity field and numerous deaths.”

_Whose deaths? I don’t remember seeing a Rick or Morty die in that park. Just Quinns._

She approached the high chairs. “Aren’t there at least rights for the citizens of the CItadel?”

“There are.” Interrupted Maximums Rickimus. “Of which you are not a citizen of this Citadel. You are an intruder, an outsider. For all we know you are invader.”

“Oh...really? Me _invade_ the Citadel of Ricks?” Quinn huffed. “I’m way too incompetent to invade the Citadel. I couldn’t even recite the periodic table if I wanted to.”

Each member of the Council smirked at her admittance. Riq IV continued. “You are also unrelated to any Rick from the central finite curve. You are a stranger.”

She squinted then smiled. “What if I said I came from a dimension where a Rick you’ve never met, existed. A Rick by another name.”

The Council members looked between each other with curiosity.

“We are aware of most Ricks of another name.” Riq IV spoke. “Tell us then. What is your dimension?” Riq IV looked pleased. His lips stretched wide as he looked across the council to Rick Prime who pulled up a device.

“Well I don’t exactly know the Dimension… er… numbers or anything. But the dimension I come from is one where Rick isn’t a person but an idea. A show.” Quinn cringed. “A tv show.”

“She lies.” Zeta Alpha Rick waved his hand. “We should just kill them all.”

“I’m not lying! Look you can even- I dunno- put me in some sorta quantum lie detector if you want, or view my memories or whatever.” Quinn shouted over the sounds of Ricks in agreements in the audience. Ricks dismissed her but some of the Mortys tried to protest in her defence, having gone through their own versions of Mind Blowers. Their Ricks harshly telling them to shut up with a belch or a swig of their flask.

Riq IV raised his hand to silence the audience.

“You offer these options to be put under our mercy. Why?” He asked.

_Aren’t I already under your mercy?_

“Because I know you have that technology. You’re Rick. The smartest men in the multiverse. And the dimension I’m from has a show where one malcontent Rick is idolized.” She explained, looking for something to perchance save herself and herselves. _Come on play to their ego._ “They look up to Rick as perfection. They _aspire_ to be like Rick.”

The Council whispered to each other, intending on drawing in Riq IV but he stared Quinn down. He gestured for her to continue.

“So why would I lie when presented with a Council of the best and Rickest Ricks out there?” Quinn stared back at Riq IV, waiting for a response but he nore the Council had any. If they did, they kept it quiet and Quinn knew why. It would mean admitting their own faults and like C-137, they wouldn’t so readily do that. She’d been banking on that.

Riq IV squinted at her, suspicious of her but he weighed her words carefully. When the others in the Council finished whispering to him he spoke for them.

“This show…” Riq IV began with a roll of his eyes toward Rick Prime, as though indulging him. “...you say your dimension has, which malcontent is it that your people worship?”

She hadn’t said worship but she noted the word choice and let it slide. Maybe it would work in her favor. Maybe they wouldn’t die. So she let them think that. If only because she had a choice to make. Lie or tell them which of their malcontents her dimension watched in a TV show. Which meant outing probably the only decent Rick in existence that she might need their help from. Especially if she ever wanted a way back home if they couldn't do it. At least they were no longer opposed to the idea. They’d probably had the idea cross their mind that in some universe somewhere, one of the Ricks was a television show.

_Wait… thats it. One of the Ricks._

“I can’t say for ...the other versions of me. But the dimension I come from, we are privy to the adventures of Rick and Morty of Earth Dimension C-132.” It wasn’t a lie. It wasn’t a truth. It was sort of in between.

Riq IV’s eyes narrowed, brow sharp and then he snapped. “Bring out Convict Alpha.”

“What?” Quinn looked as Guard Ricks dragged what she assumed was another version of herself. She wondered how they attributed the greco letters to each of them. “What is this?”

“We shall compare your story with that of your Alpha. We determined this version of you to be the most pure, superior, competent, and rational.” Riq IV explained as thought to a child.

Quinn turned, hoping against hope it wasn’t Shy Quinn. Her protective nature had reared when she’d been made fun of by Weaboo. As the Guard Rick pushed the Quinn forward however, she froze and gaped at them. They stood taller than her but looked exactly like her.

If she were _male._

“Hey what the _fuck?_ ” She rounded on the Council with all the shrillness she could muster in her voice. “What kinda sexist system are you running?”

Convict Alpha rose a brow at her outburst.

“Sheesh, can you keep it down. Your voice grates.” He said, raising his cuffed hands to rub at his ears.

“My voice grates? What about you? I bet your balls haven’t even dropped you Bieber-looking fuck.” She hissed, only realizing a second later that was also a burn on herself. The Council and audience laughed as she came to that conclusion. “Ah fuck… I need a haircut.”

“Or let your hair grow out. You’d look better with longer hair.” Male Quinn offered.

“Ya think so? Seems like a hassle though.”

“Oh yeah. Longer hair, not too longer, probably like to your shoulders, in layers. Toss in some highlights and you’d be golden. But you’d have to wait a while with the side cut you got. The asymmetrical look is totally last season.”

“Are you gay?” Quinn asked.

Male Quinn deadpanned. “No. I’m just metrosexual.”

“Oh good. That means we can smash, Becky.” Quinn offered.

“Wouldn’t that be incest?”

“Nah, it’d be _intense_ masturbation.”

“Enough.” Riq IV silenced the chamber again. “Convict Alpha, can you verify Convict Epsilon’s story?”

“Epsilon?” Male Quinn looked at her with an incredulous smile. “Yeah I can verify Church’s story.”

Riq IV sighed, as Mortys snickered in the chamber.

“I know right?” Quinn smirked to her male counterpart. The two shared a chuckle.

“What little I heard is the same, though our dimension’s show follows that of C-137.” He spoke.

“C-137 and C-132?” Riq iV looked toward Maximums Rickimus who pulled up both of the files on the hologram. Two identical looking Ricks with both Dimension numbers and a list of crimes about Anti-Rick and Anti-Citadel sentiment.

Both Quinns nodded their heads.

“Interesting…” Riq IV smiled. “So it is these Ricks that are responsible for your intrusion.”

“No, of course not.” Quinn refuted.

“Probably.” Male Quinn spoke at the same time.

The two stared at each other.

“C-137 is the Rickest Rick of all. Only he’d be able to accomplish this sort of thing.” Male Quinn said.

“Yeah but you’re watching a show where he’s the main character, of course he’s going to boast himself as the Rickest Rick.” Quinn spat, sweat forming on the back of her head. Why hadn’t Male Quinn been in the cell with her and the others? _Probably because they assumed he’s the_ **_Alpha_ ** _._ No chance to get their story straight, she now had to shed doubt. “There’s no way a malcontent could outsmart the Council of Ricks.”

“What kind of show does your dimension have? Of course C-137 outsmarts the Council, he does so-”

“Ha, yeah right.” Quinn rolled her eyes at him. “Do you hear this guy? A Malcontent Rick outsmarting a whole Council of Ricks? Fucking bullshit.” She pointed at Male Quinn and gestured to the side of her head to indicate he _must_ be crazy.

“The malcontent is **_the_ ** Rick. Meanwhile the Council of Ricks goes against everything a Rick is. They’ve lost what made them Ricks.” Male Quinn scoffed at her.

“Those malcontents are nothing but assholes. They’ve got _irrational attachments_ to their families. If anyone has lost what makes a Rick...Rick, it’s those two.”

“Thats precisely what makes C-137 _the_ Rick. Because of his family!” Male Quinn seethed.

“And that is where your wrong. Each member of the Council is more Rick than him. They made the Citadel of Ricks. A society and government of Ricks, by Ricks, for Ricks everywhere!” Quinn spat with as much vitriol and enthusiasm for the Citadel as she could muster.

“The whole point of a Rick is to be anti-government, anti-establishment.”

“Oh pssh. Please. What do you think this place is? Its anti-Galactic Federation! They did this. They made this place and it’s flourished! The Citadel flourishes, keeping Ricks and Mortys everywhere safe. Because they are the one true Ricks!” Quinn gestured to the Council. _A bit too much, reel it back in._ But the audience had already broken into applause and she just managed to add over the noise. “At least in my opinion.”

The audience clapped and made a hoot, though it was mostly Ricks in support of the Council for all they had done and not for her. Some of the Mortys looked unsure but also clapped, if only at the urging of their Ricks.

“Settle down. Quiet... “ Riq IV yelled over the noise. “SH-urgh SHUT UP!” The chamber silenced.

Quinn and Male Quinn glowered at each other. _So much for smashing_.

“Convict…” Riq IV looked at Maximums Rickimus and with a nod he pressed something on a small device. “Convict Beta.” He said with a smile at Male Quinn.

“Beta…?” Male Quinn blinked.

“Your input is no longer needed. It has been deemed irrational.”

“What?” Male Quinn asked as Guard Ricks came upon him, grasping his arms. “Hey wait, wait a second, she’s lyi-” A gag was placed in his mouth as they dragged him away.

Once he was away the Council spent a few moments murmuring and whispering to each other before coming to some kind of consensus.

“Now then...” Riq IV gestured at the Guard Morty who quickly removed her cuffs. “Detainee Alpha.”

Her word caught on Detainee but her brain stuttered around the greco. “Alpha, huh?” Quinn smiled. “So I’m a Detainee instead of a Convict.”

“You’ve proven your innocence. As you said, you can’t even recite the periodic table, though memorization is hardly a measure of intelligence. Yet if you can’t do something that simple, well there isn’t a an iota of chance you’d be able to get past our defenses and anti-dimension branching shields.” Riq IV said. “This hearing is concluded.”

The doors were opened to allow Ricks and Mortys to filtered out. The Council of Ricks began to step down from their raised chairs.

“Wait… if it’s concluded, what does it mean for me? And the other Quinns?” She asked to the

“Quinn? That is your name?” Riq IV questioned as he stepped in front of the other Council members.

“Quinn T. Commons.” She formally introduced herself. “Of Earth in an unknown dimension… that I assume you’ll be able to figure out and send us back?” She knew that her best bet was C-137 but if they could, she might as well ask.

“Right now you are evidence to a crime committed on the Citadel.” Quantum Rick said, as the last Rick and Morty left the chamber. “There will be no sending you back.”

“What?! But… come on, you gotta. We don’t belong here.” She plead. All of them narrowed their eyes at her.

“As true as that is, it isn’t up to you.”

“Not to mention we cannot pinpoint your exact dimension via your particles anyway.” Rick Prime stepped to her holding out the device he’d been fiddling with the entire time. His head shook as it scanned her. “Still nothing.”

“What?”

“Whatever portal you came through, has left your entire molecular structure in a state of instability.”

“In… english please.” Quinn asked.

All Ricks sighed. “Your particles are constantly dismantling and assembling at a rapid pace, preventing any proper reading. And when we do get a reading, the Dimension number shifts each time. Randomly.”

“So… you’re saying.”

“You’re stuck here until we can properly stabilize your molecules.” Rick prime said.

“Don’t worry. You and your ilk will be held in the detention center until all is sorted out.” Quantum Rick. “You’ll be safe with your people.” He gestured for her to follow him. The other Council Members led the way. They were flanked by Guard Ricks and Guard Mortys.

“So we’re just going to be held in those cells?” Quinn asked. “Indefinitely?”

“Precisely.”

Her lungs and chest clenched tight in panic. Now that the immediate threat of death was gone, there were other worries rising up. Being detained, captive in a cell was not ideal.

“Pardon me but that seems like a waste.” She looked up at the Ricks.

“A waste? Ha-urgh. You have no use for Ricks. You’re rational, yes, but completely inept.” Riq IV dismissed her concern. “In the cell you will be safe and be sheltered. In far better accommodations than even a Morty has. Its an ideal situation, especially one not entitled to such liberties. You are, afterall, not a citizen of the Citadel. We are being extremely forthcoming and you should be grateful.”

 _Grateful?_ She narrowed her eyes but bit her tongue. “But we could do something...we each have our own set of skills. We could be useful. We could do something for the Citadel.”

The Council stopped outside of an elevator. Quinn recognized it as the one she’d been brought up with. Wary of the Guards who now flanked her, she looked to the Council.

“And what should you do?” Riq IV questioned, a gleam in his wild eyes. A hidden satisfaction as he grinned with malicious intent.

The other Quinns might not like this. But it was better than dying or wasting away. She just saved their hides from death, now to save them from lack of purpose. Quinn gulped as she worked herself up to utter the damning words. “Serve you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uh... what do you guys think so far? I don't think I did the Council justice, but I am willing to improve that if anyone wants to give pointers.


End file.
